


Bedroom

by cowboykylux



Series: If The Creek Don't Rise [52]
Category: Logan Lucky (2017)
Genre: Anniversary, Declarations Of Love, Dog Tags, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Smut, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:00:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26452246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cowboykylux/pseuds/cowboykylux
Summary: “Put ‘em on, would ya? I want to see ‘em on you.” Clyde tugs his shirt up and over his head, drops it to the floor and works on stepping out of his jeans.Your hands fumble with the chain as you slip the dog tags over your head, letting the metal rest against your chest. t’s cool, a little shock of how cold. They’re nestled right between your breasts and Clyde can’t stop staring.You don’t want him to stop.
Relationships: Clyde Logan/Reader, Clyde Logan/You
Series: If The Creek Don't Rise [52]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/927228
Comments: 2
Kudos: 99





	Bedroom

He’s already home, when you come into the bedroom one day after running some errands. Frowning at the clock, you wonder what he’s doing here so early. Weekends are busy for him, for Duck Tape, and it’s a good thing too. Good for business, for your Clyde’s business.

Your heart beats a little quicker at the thought, at the verbiage. _Your Clyde._ He was, wasn’t he? Hard workin’ man wantin’ to provide for you. You’re comin’ up on a special anniversary, six whole months together as a couple livin’ in his cozy trailer on a patch of land he can call his own. You’d been out picking things up for a surprise celebration tomorrow, because you had thought he’d be out at the bar until much later tonight, so you move to quickly stash the goodies in a hiding spot in the closet.

“Hey honey?” You call out to him with a little frown of concern – did something happen at Duck Tape? -- as you slip your shoes off by the door, the late summer rains having hit West Virginia somethin’ awful fierce. You just mopped the floors, you don’t want to go bringin’ on any mud in.

“I’m in here, darlin’.” His deep voice responds to you, sounding solemn.

Your frown deepens, and you’re over at his side in an instant.

“Is everything okay? I was just about to head over to D.T. to come see my man in action.” You cozy up next to him on the couch, peering at what’s on the small coffee table.

“Yeah, everything’s fine it’s just…” Clyde sighs, huffs and puffs out nervously like he sometimes forgets how to breathe when he’s around you. It’s endearing, and you smile at him, until you recognize what those boxes are.

“Oh.” You say quietly, restin’ your head on his shoulder. It’s his memory boxes from his time overseas, his time with the Army. Two tours, two boxes. Photographs, mementos, paperwork, things he probably should be gettin’ rid of but never will, all laid out neatly on the table. “Is it getting to be around that time, then, isn’t it?”

Your anniversary was comin’ up, yes, but so was another anniversary – the day he returned home. Probably more accurately, the day he lost his hand. Your fingers immediately twine with the cool metal ones of the prosthetic.

“Yep.” He whispers, and maybe you’re imaginin’ things, but it feels like the hard fingers around your palm tighten ever so slightly, like he’s givin’ you an affectionate squeeze back.

You sit in silence for a little while, not ever wanting to be one to pressure him into speakin’, but after a while you just miss hearing the sound of his voice, so you ask very lightly, “Would ya tell me what you’re thinkin’?”

He looks up at you then, and with his flesh and bone hand picks up the chain in front of him, the little metal pendant _plink_ -ing against everything as he pulls it off the table.

“I was thinkin’ I want you to have these.” Clyde says, his voice so soft, so deep and melodious as he nervously places the dog tags in your hands.

He’s still got both, never lost them or misplaced them. They’re clean, polished even, and you wonder when the last time was that he bothered to do something like that. But you also wouldn’t be surprised if it’d been years and years – they wouldn’t get much wear, sitting in the boxes like this. Regardless, the gesture speaks volumes, even if his voice is gentle, and you can’t help but stare at him with wide eyes when the warmth of your palm starts to fog up the shiny metal.

“Clyde…really? These are special, important.” The weight of them in your hand feels significant, feels like something deeper than you deserve.

He’s blushing fiercely then, can’t meet your eye with the way you’re lookin’ at him like he hangs the stars in the skies. He fiddles with the hem of his shirt instead, swallows so hard you can hear it in the quiet of the room.

“So are you. And I figure, well, it don’t make too much sense but, I figure maybe if you’d be so inclined to wearin’ ‘em, then it’d be like havin’ a piece of me with you when I’m at the bar late nights like these.” He insists. “Ain’t never had nobody want to stick around with me for this long. Nobody that wasn’t family, or Army. It just feels right, if you’ll take ‘em.”

Your Clyde doesn’t give grand declarations like these all too often, doesn’t usually have this many words all in one go. But they’re thoughtful, and they’re gentle, and they’re sure – and you can’t imagine denying him. Not now, not ever. 

“Of course I will Clyde – of _course_ I will.” You nod happily.

Clyde’s whole face brightens with relief, and you can’t help but sandwich his face between your hands and pull him in for a kiss.

It’s a sweet kiss at first, just a chaste press of your lips on his. But then he sighs into it, opens his mouth for you, lets his hands wrap around your back and tug you ever so closely to his chest, and your tongue finds its way slidin’ against his own.

The rain comes back in earnest then, thunder and lightning open up the sky, the _kaboom_ of it shakin’ the trailer just a little. It snaps you to reality only enough to ask, “You’re going in tonight?”

“I was plannin’ on it, yeah.” Clyde’s eyes are closed though, and he’s still leaning towards you, following you where you move, drawn to you. 

“I don’t think you should, I think you should stay here with me.” You pet through his hair as you lean back back back on the couch, pulling him down to lay on top of you, to crowd into your space. “Listen how hard it’s rainin’ outside, I don’t want you driving in that.”

“Someone’s gotta man the place.” His tone is noncommittal, he’s made up his mind to stay with you already, he just needs you to give him that nudge of permission. 

“Call the other bartender, he’ll be grateful for the tips.” You release him with a big grin, “And then come back and fuck me.”

He scrambles to grab the landline on the wall, eagerly punches in the number of the bar. You strip down quickly, quietly, wanting to surprise him with the sight of your naked body reclining on the couch like some old french painting.

It works – he nearly chokes at the sight of your bare breasts and the soft curve of your stomach, your thighs.

“Put ‘em on, would ya? I want to see ‘em on you.” Clyde tugs his shirt up and over his head, drops it to the floor and works on stepping out of his jeans.

Your hands fumble with the chain as you slip the dog tags over your head, letting the metal rest against your chest. It’s cool, a little shock of how cold. They’re nestled right between your breasts and Clyde can’t stop staring.

You don’t want him to stop.

“Like this? You like how they look?” You ask, running your hands over your nipples so they would stiffen up faster. Clyde’s gaze zeroes in on them and you grin, knowing exactly how to get him going.

“Yeah I do – baby, can I -- ?” He’s taking two big strides across the living room to get to you, and you welcome him with open arms.

“Please, Clyde, touch me, I want to feel you on me.” You sigh, encourage, moan for him.

He presses you deep deep deep into the mattress and wastes very little time slingin’ one of your legs over his hip. He’s so wide, so warm, how is he so warm? You can already feel the sweat beading up between his pecs as he wriggles his fingers between your legs, sucks on your neck.

“Prettiest damn woman this side of the mountains you are, look at ya, oh fuck darlin’.” Clyde’s practically whimpering, and the sound alone makes your toes curl.

He fingers you open slowly, deliberately, carefully. He takes you apart happily, eagerly, desperately. You can feel the thick head of his cock jabbing against your inner thigh, and as much as you would love to come on his massive fingers, the thought of coming around his cock is so much sweeter.

With a hiccup you reach between your bodies and grasp his cock firmly enough for him to get the hint. And your man, your Clyde, he does, _oh_ he does – he drops his face into the crook of your neck as your hand guides his cock between the velvet heat of your pussy, your folds swallowing him down down down.

He bottoms out in one long and slow thrust, picking up your waist and holding you at an angle that can get him so deep inside you that you’re sure you can feel it pressing up against your cervix. He sucks hard on your throat, on your shoulder, bites at you as he moans, a ragged thing rumbling in his chest.

“I love hearing you moan honey, I’m never going to get tired of that sound. Let me hear you Clyde, let me hear you.”

“Aw fuck – fuck (Y/N) your pussy’s so tight,” He gasps, and you only clench your cunt around him tighter. He keens over you, his hips shoving themselves against yours enough to push you up the couch, making you whine out in pleasure-pain. “So hot, ain’t never felt nothin’ like this before.”

Your clit throbs as your knees press against the width of his middle, keeping him in place as he takes his time, keeps himself to a slow and steady pace, a rhythm that’s not fast, not rough. He can be – your Clyde can be so brutal and raw and rough that you’ll be sore for days afterwards. But not now, not tonight, not with the rain hitting the roof of the trailer in a way that makes it sound like you’re in a bubble away from the rest of the world.

His cock drags and drags and drags against your g-spot, and you drool around his tongue where he kisses you, where he pulls the sweetest sounds out of you. Your pussy’s wet and dripping, and the slip and slide of it only makes Clyde grunt hot and heavy in your ear as it sucks him in, holds him in like a vice grip.

“I’m – fuck me, I’m gonna come.” He groans, angry that it’s over so soon. You don’t mind, you haven’t been able to steal a few moments for sex in a day or two, and if he’s not going into work, well. You’ve got all night to prepare.

“Come in me, fill me up honey.” You nod, your lashes sticking together from wetness. He kisses them, licks up the little spots of salty tears and swallows them down as his hips speed up just enough to tip him over the edge.

Clyde’s always had such a big load, you can’t help but think as your body tingles and goes alight, his fat thumb rubbing circles on your clit to bring you along with him. As your chest heaves, as your rib-cage expands from where you’re gasping for breath, as your mouth drops open and you moan high and loud in the comfort of the trailer, Clyde comes comes comes to the sight of your sweat smeared over the stamped information in the tags, melding together.

“I love you. I love you so much that it hurts sometimes.” He blurts out as his cock pulses thick and hot into your pussy. You lift a hand to comb back the hair that’s hung in his face, pushing the back of his head down to kiss.

“Mr. Logan I have been falling in love with you since the first day we met, and I don’t see myself stopping anytime soon.” You whisper against his mouth, and he’s not got much more to say to that than,

“Bedroom?”

You grin, nodding and letting yourself be picked up and taken away,

“Bedroom.”

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this prompt sent in: Can i request, with Clyde, it’s their 6 months anniversary, and clyde offers to reader his dog tags, because it’s a object very important to him and she is very important to him and he is in love with her.


End file.
